


Rendezvous

by Siddal



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:05:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siddal/pseuds/Siddal
Summary: After DC.After Sokovia.After Germany and Siberia.They meet. They recover. They reconnect.





	Rendezvous

Nat hears the engine as she is stirring the stew she’d been reheating. She turns off the gas and walks towards the door of the tiny converted garage. Just as she opens the door, a motorcycle with a man clad in black sat on it, stops in its tracks.

“You got my message.” She says.

He removes his helmet, his long hair in his eyes, but doesn’t speak a word. He doesn’t really know what to make of the red haired woman despite strangely trusting her enough to meet her in such a secluded place.

“You can park that thing behind the bushes.” She waves towards the ill-kempt greenery. “I already left a tarp there, somewhere.”

He does as he’s told then follows her to the small, grey, concrete box and enters through its plain metal door.

He scans the open room. He looks to the double bed with a duffle bag on top, set against the wall to the right. He looks to the bit of sheet metal wall, a cubicle, probably hiding the shower and toilet on the left. There’s a rectangular metal table with four chairs at the center of the room, a grate underneath. Possible escape route through the sewers. And the walls, grey all around. The hidden backdoor by the bed just a shade cooler than the rest of the room

Beside the door is the fridge. Useful for barricading. On the kitchen counter beside it, Nat is transferring her stew into bowls.

“Hungry?” She asks as she set the bowls on the table. “I made stew. You’ll need some fuel if you’re about to make a run for it. You are about to run aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He replies, his voice quiet and rough from disuse.

She sits and digs right into her bowl. She waves to a chair across from her, by the place on the table with the other bowl.

“Everything set?” She asks as he sits before her, though she raises a hand to stop him saying “Don’t tell me the details?”

“I wasn’t going to. But yes. Location. Alias. All set.” He confirms.

“Money?”

“Cracked open an ATM just this morning.” He says with a smirk she’s sure is involuntary. His charm’s woken up she thinks, as she hides a smirk of her own.

“It’s good you came now. I was about to give up on you ever coming around. Head out myself.” She pushes on with conversation.

“Head out? Aren’t you more of a public figure, nowadays?” He asks as he ponders on the meat in his bowls.

“I think it’s still best that I lay low after that shit show. And a girl can still pull off a disguise. Learned from one of the best after all.”

This catches his attention and he looks at her thoughtfully for a moment.

“What took you so long anyway?” she continues.

“I wasn’t aware I had a deadline and I had some things to figure out. Went to the Smithsonian. Met the guy I...was.”

She nods and says “Bucky.”

He frowns at the mention of his name.

“That’s not what you usually call me is it?” he says more than asks.

“I don’t think we’ve seen enough of each other to have a ‘usual’.”

“You’re mouth seemed like it was having a hard time getting around the word.” He probes further.

She rolls her eyes playfully and asks “Well, what kind of name is Bucky, anyway?”

“A nickname.” He supplies.

“And what kind of person lets people get away with calling him that into adulthood?”

“The kind who’s friends with Captain America as it turns out.”

She smiles at this, drawing out a smile from him. Which he turns into a frown, wondering what was worth smiling about from the exchange to begin with.

“I called you many things.” She explains. “But later, it became ‘James’ when you were starting to remember.”

He sighs looking into her eyes, seeing a sadness in them, along with something else.

“I like ‘James’, from you anyway.”

They continue with their meal in silence, until her standing to place her bowl into the sink startles him into a split second of panic.

_Don’t go. I have questions._

“When was the last time I saw you?” he asks suddenly.

She turns back to look at him.

“Saw me? I’d say ’86, maybe. I saw you much more recently in Odessa but you didn’t see me.” She says vaguely.

“I didn’t see you? I know I’m a good shot but I didn’t know I’m _that_ good a shot.” Another involuntary smile blooms on his face again. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“No worries. You weren’t all there. You remember though. How much?” She smiles back curiously.

“Bits and pieces. The museum shook a few things loose from way back. They don’t feel like my memories though, like I’m remembering a show I saw more than something I went through.” He shares surprisingly easily.

“They’ll feel like yours eventually, however numerous or few they might be.” She says comfortingly as he falls back into melancholy.

“If they give me enough time to get to ‘eventually’.”

She places a hand on his shoulder he flinches but doesn’t shrug her off.

“Pierce is gone, James. You’ll get your ‘eventually’.”

“Is that what happened to your memories from…before it all?”

He struggles with the specifics but Nat understood him well enough as she often does.

“Yes. It took some time.” She nods “I didn’t remember much from then. But what I did get back…The snow feels like it fell on my skin, and the cold on the gates feel like they seeped into my gloves. The tapping of my shoes on the wet pavement sound clear.”

“Eventually.” He supplies.

She sits across from him again and asks “Do you remember much from…then?”

He smiles again slightly, understanding her just as she understood him, even when short a few words.

“Most of what I remember are directives, punishment, kills…students. Most of those girls are dead now aren’t they?”

“Yes. Most of them.” she says with a nod.

“But not you. You must be very good.”

“I had a good teacher.” She smiles down at her hands.

“I don’t remember. Were we…?” He hesitates to ask.

“Yes. Don’t worry. I don’t remember all of it either.”

“But you remember most of it. More than me anyway.” He says almost apologetically.

“You’ll get there…if you even want too.” She says self-deprecatingly.

“Eventually.”

There was silence for a moment but there was more he needed to know.

“Did it hurt?” he asks.

“It does.” She says and he notes the change in tenses. “The good makes up for it.”

“I suppose we didn’t end too badly if we’re doing this.” He gestures at the room, their circumstances. “It feels like we do this kinda often.”

“It was the worst end.” She says almost jokingly. “But it wasn’t on us. And maybe ‘often’ isn’t the word but we meet when we remember and the circumstances allow…or calls for it.”

“We remember. You forget too?” he asks

“I’ve remembered for a while now. But I’ve been made to forget a few times in the past as well. Not much as you though.”

And then the moment he’s been strangely dreading came.

“I gotta go. You can take more of a breather here if you like. Help yourself to some more food in the fridge. There’s ammo in the case under the bed. But you shouldn’t stay longer than a week. When are you heading out?” She rattles on as she grabs for her duffle bag on the bed.

It takes him a beat to compose a reply.

“Thursday. I won’t get into specifics but I’m thinking Eastern Europe. Put out a feeler for me if you’re in the area. I might remember more by then.” He says casually. Hopefully.

“I’ll see you soon, James.”

“Natalia.”

* * *

 

He hears the click of her shoes on the concrete stairs. Her gate and rhythm familiar though he doesn’t remember the last he’d heard it. He opens the door before she even knocks.

“Talia?”

She pushes her way into the apartment. She pulls her hood down and rubs at her face in exasperation.

“We fucked up.”

“I saw.” He waves to his small TV. “You did the best you could.”

“Tell that to the country we just blew up.”

“I think the people were pretty happy you guys were there.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they don't know Ultron was made by one of us yet.”

He ferries her to the small bed to sit. His hand on her arm grounding her.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment jut savoring each other’s presence. The time between DC and now strangely feeling longer than their time apart before that.

She smiles softly and says “Steve's fine by the way. Since you're dying to ask.”

“Am I that obvious?” he asks with a wince.

“To me.”

He can’t really tell you how he knew. It might have been a line on her forehead, a shudder in her voice or a quirk of her lip. But he knew.

“There's something else.” he says.

She sighs. She’s been caught.

“It's nothing.”

“Natalia.” He insists.

“Am I that obvious?” she asks.

“To me.”

She huff before she says “There's someone. One of us. He took off. I think it might have been my fault.”

“The big green guy. How is that your fault?” he asks.

“Well, not all my fault. He's been dealing with a lot of guilt lately. But part of it might also be me.”

He nods and says “You're together.”

“Not exactly.” She says defensively.

“That's why you didn't want to tell me.” He says with a chuckle.

“Well, technically you are my ex.”

“Technically, you're my only ally right now. I think I can put up with a bit of awkward. You know you don’t have to hide anything from me.” He takes her hand in his and gives a comforting squeeze.

 _‘He definitely remembers more now’_ she thinks.

“I dumped a lot of my baggage on him. He's this brilliant scientist, very in control of his 'mental powers'. He's kind, attractive and also a huge dork. But there's this thing that takes over sometimes, and it makes him do awful things. Like me. And the idiot inside me thought that was enough. Thought 'Hey! That's a start.'” She chuckles miserably.

“Worked for us.” He says trying to be supportive.

She groans and says “It is kinda fucked up isn't it. And by what you’re saying, I also just basically told you I found a knockoff of our relationship.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know…I'm a mess.”

“You just got away from an exploding city while saving a lot of people's lives. I think you're allowed to be a bit of a mess.” His thumb rubs over the back of her hand.

“Our guilt isn't the only thing that bound us together though. Wasn't it?” She asks hopefully, reminding of the young girl he trained.

“There was a lot of guilt. But it wasn't all of it.”

“You're remembering more, huh?”

“A lot more.”

They sit there just in each other’s company. Nat stretching out the kinks in her muscles that she’s accumulated in the past few days and James taking as much of Nat as he can from just holding her hand in preparation for her leaving, like a bear preparing for hibernation.

“I do feel kinda guilty about not telling Steve about us.” She says.

“We've survived all this time by not telling people about us.”

“I mean about you. Knowing how you are, where you are. Knowing he's just a train ride away. He’s been looking for you.” Nat elaborates.

“I'm not ready to see him. And I'm not so sure being around me will be good for him.” He says.

“He misses you. Now more than ever.” She insists.

“But I'm still...this.” He motions at all of him. “The fist of HYDRA. The Winter Soldier. Captain America can't be associated with me.

“He's associated with me.”

“You've recovered. And you’ve redeemed yourself. You've done so much good even before becoming one of the Avengers. You were fighting for the good side.” He says.

“So I thought at the time.”

“I’m not all there yet, Talia. I remember but I don’t feel like I belong to myself completely. Yet at the same time those kills, the hurt and the chaos were also all still my doing. I might have to fight a couple of aliens before I can be qualified to be around Steve again.” He muses.

“You don’t.” She shakes her head. “You only need to come as you are for Steve Rogers. You picked a hell of a best friend after all.”

“I don’t deserve him. I don’t remember picking him, and I remember a lot now. That kid who just swooped in to save the day.” He recollects.

“Thought it was the other way around back then.”

“I saved his ass. He save my everything.” He says with a chuckle.

“That does sound like Steve. He’s never been anyone but himself his whole life hasn’t he, even when he was short a couple of inches?”

They smile thinking on their mutual friend who’s so very different from them.

“I’m glad you like him, which is strange to say. Liking that you like my friend when we’re not together. And when you’ve spent more time with him than I have in the past decade.” He shakes his head, quietly laughing at himself.

“It’s not strange. We’re still us, aren’t we?”

“You have your green scientist and I’m not exactly viable for human interaction.”

“Maybe. But we can shoot at each other, have different names, not remember each other fully, or date other people. But we’re still us.” Says Nat, speaking the truth she’s lived all these years, with or without him by her side.

“That’s a weird set of circumstances.” He says.

“That’s what happens when you’ve lived as long as we have.” She says with a chuckle.

“Steve not like us.” he counters.

“Steve is a living ray of sunshine. And he was asleep for 7 decades. We just had catnaps every few years.”

He nods and says “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too. Can I stay the night?”

He turns to her in shock.

“Won’t they be looking for you?”

She shakes her head.

“I disappear all the time. I even left a note this time. They’ll be fine.”

The night lasted the four days. They spent it in bed, talking about the things they remembered, filling in the blanks for each other. And also not talking in bed, relearning each other’s bodies.

James figured out that she was right, they could do and be all those things and still be ‘us’. And Natalia remembered that nothing could ever be a knockoff of them. Nothing compares.

* * *

 

It sits heavy in Natalia’s gut, seeing him restrained to another metal chair. It brings back memories of when she was made to watch as he forgot her, as the man she loved faded behind blank eyes.

She does hide a smirk though when he insists on being called Bucky. He’d never dare ask her that. But it also feels like a reclamation. Bucky was the man behind the Soldat, the man she fell for even if she didn’t know that’s what he was called at the time. She’s happy for him in the midst of all the hurt and chaos surrounding them now.

* * *

 

She sends a sting King T’challa’s way. She doesn’t enjoy hurting grieving men but she was always the one who had to do the messy bit.

The two super soldiers made it for the Quinjet after seeing their pursuer electrocuted. He couldn’t resist caressing her wrist with his hand as he passes. She hopes the sting and the red of revenge in T’challa’s eyes prevented him from seeing it.

* * *

 

T’challa saw. She should be panicking right now, thinking of ways to explain it away, with optional violence on the side. She doesn’t know if it’s because of his guilt about going after the wrong man or a thanks for stopping him from killing the wrong man. Either way, he lets her into the lab when no one else is looking. Probably told Steve there was some other test or procedure that had to be done before Bucky was put in ice.

“A proper goodbye. How’d you swing that?” He asks the moment she enters the room.

“I didn’t. The king saw your little sentimental tick back at the airport.” She says in a false chastising tone.

“Sorry.” He says with a wince

“No, its fine. Most people would have just thought you swung your hand too far in my direction. But I think he saw it in my face, how I reacted. Steve never got to elaborate on where you were heading. I didn’t know if…” She moves closer and embraces his arm to her. “…when I was going to see you again. I needed it too.”

He nods then asks “Steve?”

“He doesn’t know. Only the king. He’s the king of a hidden country with apparently a spy for a lover. He’s used to the secrets I suppose.”

This makes him snigger, taking her with him. But the glistening in her eyes isn’t entirely from the laughter.

 “Do you have to do this?” she asks with a quiver to her voice.

“You know I do. I need fixing. And maybe they could fix me.”

“Aren’t you afraid of going back into the ice?” she asks.

“HYDRA isn’t doing it this time. Their intentions seem good. And I have my memories. And I have you to look forward to on the other side.” He smiles at her comfortingly, taking his one hand back to caress her cheek.

“I love you.” Says Natalia, hiccupping through the words.

“I love you, Little Spider. I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated.


End file.
